Once the leaves start falling, you don’t get a second chance.
Photo by Vanessa Sezini on Unsplash
“We took that drive last Wednesday to look at the leaves,” my buddy, Paul, told me over dinner earlier this week.
He’d been planning it for a while. His daughter drove while he observed from the passenger seat. She navigated one of the scenic byways an hour south of Omaha. The problem was, the leaves hadn’t quite changed colors yet, even though it was late October, so they didn’t get to see what they were hoping for.
The leaves seem to be changing colors and falling later in recent years. But Paul knows that once the leaves do start to fall, it all happens in one day. If a person isn’t paying attention, he or she will miss seeing a tree go from a magnificent array of colors to a skeleton.
I love that Paul and his daughter took a chance to catch the leaves before they fell. His chasing a beautiful moment says something about the way he values both time and beauty.
Another friend, Randy, is in town from Tennessee this week, and we’ve spent quite a bit of time together. We’ll meet with a group of friends tonight to watch a football game and share old stories. He’ll jump back on a plane bound for home on Sunday, and we probably won’t see him again until next summer or fall.
The last two Sundays, I’ve taken my great-nephew for lunch and indoor miniature golf after worship. My wife came with us last Sunday, which made it extra special. My great-nephew had never played miniature golf, so it was fun trying to tame his swing from one that looked like he was teeing off on a par five to learning something about finesse.
I shot video of him on numerous holes, took pictures of him on the dinosaurs interspersed through the course, and gave him a high five when he made a hole-in-one on one of the most difficult holes.
I know that such experiences will have their own short season. Kids change so fast, and in three years, he’ll be playing miniature golf with his buddies, rather than wanting to hang out with old Uncle Lee.
One of my mom’s old neighborhood friends called her this week to let her know he and his wife moved into a nursing home recently. He ruled that neighborhood for decades. I don’t mean that in a bad way.
He looked out for widows (taking one for groceries every week), retrieved Mom’s mail for her, checked on people and always made time to stop and talk. That neighborhood will look different now that Mom and the couple have moved away. I’d like to think that all three of them took time to catch the leaves before they fell.
Finally, this week, a local television meteorologist predicted that we will have double the snowfall this year compared to the last five.
Winter is coming, and I love that. It brings its own beauty and stillness as the world outside sleeps. But before the first snow, I want a few more evenings around the fire pit and a few more drives in the country.
Paul didn’t get his colors this year. But he and his daughter made the time to go looking for them together. The leaves will fall when they fall. What matters is making time to chase them with the people we love.
